Stray
by SoldierNoodles
Summary: Kiba is picked up by Sakura on a whim. She hadn't expected what was to come in the future. Together they explore all the possibilities, learning about each other along the way. AU.
1. Ticks and Fleas

"_Oh heaven, I wait with good intentions."_

It's 58 degrees outside.

Typical, Manhattan weather. It's snowing lightly outside, and compared to Ping-Pong sized flakes from this morning; I can't really find reason to complain. Pulling up into my driveway, I reach for the sun visor to open the garage door from the remote, as I wait I glance to my left.

He's there again.

He'd been for about two months actually. Lying in the cold snow, alone. Anyone passing by would stop to give him food, and once, and only once, a police officer that frequently patrolled this part of the city had brought him inside a small, family owned general store. He'd followed stubbornly and weakly, and later that day he was back by the dumpster and curb, donning a thick winter jacket and some heavy-duty winter boots.

Of course, he'd been wearing that for about three weeks now.

He needed to shave. He could put on a few pounds too, maybe like one hundred pounds, actually, and a bath. Shaking my head I park the car in my garage and unlock the door to my home. Inside is warm and fuzzy; the beach-like yellow walls of the town house seem eerily white with the contrast of snow covering the city outside of my windows. I fold my scarf and jacket over the kitchen barstool and fish my cell phone out of my pocket; I'd left the office but my day was far from over. I itch my nose as I saunter over to the living room to switch on the TV, it'd been left on the weather channel since yesterday, and now meteorologists claimed a heavy blizzard to hit in a few hours from now. I look outside and sure enough the snow is getting heavier.

_Fuck._

You can just leave homeless people to suffer from hypothermia in a dangerous blizzard outside, while you watch draped in a cashmere throw in front of a fireplace.

Right?

_Probably not._

I bite my bottom lip.

I've walked passed this guy plenty of times. He avoids eye contact, and never returns a smile. Certainly nothing sinister ever reminded me of him. I think of him when I see abandoned puppies and kids in feed-the-hungry commercials.

He's not malicious.

It's only takes two minutes for me to slip into some heavy sweatpants and snow-boots, and seconds more to throw on my fleece. I tread out the front door of my town house and approach him cautiously,

"Hey!"

He glances at me and quickly looks away, he's clearly shivering and his ears are a nasty purple color under the hood of his dirty winter coat,

"Listen; there's a blizzard coming in and you need to go to a shelter, I'll drive you if you let me."

He snaps his head towards me, it's the first time I'm able to look into his eyes, they're a sad, dejected type of look, and it hits me in the heart, "I can't just let you freeze; you've kept the dumpster company for two months."

The snow is getting much heavier, and I didn't wear a hat.

He chuckles.

"I'm sure you aren't a pervert or an ex-con, so I'm willing to help. If you can't stand up I can help you with that, too."

"I can." He shivers,

"Okay, so get on up. Let's go."

The snow is sticking to my face.

"I don't want to bother anymore people."

"You aren't bothering me."

"I'm sure I will."

"No..."

He shakes a bit, "Yeah, everyone got tired of me. I'm just trying to stay out of the way now."

"Okay, get up. _Now_."

I hate people who degrade themselves.

"No, just go, seriously."

Seriously? I try to get a better look at him, he sounds about my age, but now, with all the fucking snow, all I'm seeing is white. Gritting my teeth I lunge forward and grab at his sleeve, I tug hard and let myself roll on my heels backwards, when he feels me falling he reaches forwards and grabs my forearms with his hands.

They're dark, turning colors, but his grip is stronger than mine.

He's standing now and he's a good head taller than me,

"You're coming with me."

"Do you kidnap the homeless often?" He questions emotionlessly,

"Shut up, I'm saving you're life."

He's quiet.

He follows me as I guide him through the blinding snow, stopping only once to cross the street, when I reach the front of my precious town house I halt.

Shelter?

He sure didn't seem stupid.

Reaching into my pocket with numb fingers, I grab my key and unlock the door. I walk inside and he hesitates at the door,

"How do you know I'm not going to rape and kill you?"

I snicker at his remark.

"Because you would've done it yesterday when I stopped to give you that hot dog last night."

**[Ticks and Fleas]**

I had him take his boots off in the mud-run by the garage, and then decided it would be best if he stripped down to his underwear if he was wearing any. While he undressed I had left to go to my bathroom to grab a towel,

"Okay, I'm going to let you take a shower, I have some disposable razors and shaving cream so you can get tidied up."

"Thank you."

His brown eyes twinkled a bit.

"What's your name?

"Kiba Inuzuka."

"I'm Sakura Haruno, marketing student and secretary."

He nodded, and shuffled a bit as he retrieved the towel from my hand.

He was dirty and discolored, and the discoloration on his midsection seemed to almost be abs. Giggling inwardly, I guided him upstairs and to the guest bedroom. I waited downstairs until I heard the water running through the pipes, and changed again in my room, after locking the door, and went back to my living room.

_I'm a fucking saint. Kiss my ass._

Yes this was I, Sakura Haruno, saving homeless people from blizzards.

I texted the news to a co-worker of mine.

_'why don't you go pick up a few more you idiot.'_

_'he's harmless'_

_'until he sacs you in your sleep and bites you to death.'_

_'gtfo.'_

I start the gas fireplace beneath the TV and, trot over to my kitchen.

Dad would kill me if he knew.

Inside there's a salad I made yesterday evening and some marinated chicken I planned to cook today; it only made sense to preheat the oven to 400 degrees. I rounded the kitchen island and back to the living room.

"Hey," he called from the top of the stairs, he'd taken a good hour long shower, and I had been falling asleep on my couch, "I have nothing to wear."

Shit. Of course, okay maybe I'm not that smart. Thinking swiftly, and realizing that I couldn't have him half naked in my car or in the store in this weather, I noted the small shopping plaza in Broadway. And the Blizzard outside.

_Oh my shit, I had not thought this through._

"Okay! One sec!"

I scurried across the main floor and to the staircase; he'd been standing at the top, completely dry, with his towel wrapped around his waist,

"Hey," he crooned awkwardly, shifting his weight to his left hip. His body was riddled with small accents of frostbite from outside, but more importantly, he was built. It almost seemed as if he lost his way home from the gym; his stomach was shielded with some very legitimate looking muscles, and the leanness of his figure only showed signs of semi-serious malnutrition.

"How long have you been like this?" I wondered aloud,

"Six months."

Dear God, poor guy.

I shuffled passed him and into my room; at the top of my closet was a bag filled with sweat clothes my uncle had left while he visited me a few weeks ago. I returned to the second bedroom where Kiba was looking nervously out the window,

"Here," I handed him a pair of Adidas sweat pants that were a filthy looking maroon color, and a too large shirt that I had scavenged from my pajama drawers, "You aren't wearing those dirty boxers again- are you?"

"No... I don't need to wear any underwear for now."

His face was thoroughly red (like mine) and he fidgeted again before I quickly left the room. I sighed loudly as I closed the bedroom door behind me, I texted Ino again:

_'i forgot he need clothes'_

_'you are the queen of idiots, Sakura'_

_'im going to punch you when i see you tomorrow blondie'_

Downstairs I heard the loud _'ping'_ of the oven. I pulled an aluminum pan from the bottom cabinets and lined it with foil, after placing the two marinated chicken breasts in the pan and filling it with a generous amount of water I took my jacket and scarf from around the bar stool and put them in their appropriate storage areas in my room. When I returned to the kitchen Kiba was seated at the counter.

"I really appreciate this, Sakura." He said softly,

"It's what I do," I grinned cockily at him, "I like when people are happy."

"Me too." He said, smiling brightly.

I walked to the other side of the counter to speak to him, resting my elbows on the grey-brown marble,

"What happened to you to be out there?"

"My parent's stopped financially supporting me."

"And?"

"I was college student," he sighed, "I was majoring in advertisement but I was also doing ballet and dance on the side... I wasn't working."

_"Ballet and dance?"_

"I preform in Broadway plays."

"Oh you must be really good then," I tried to picture him doing some fancy soté, but his current physique was doing nothing to help me paint a picture, "Did your parent's come see you preform?"

"No; my dad wouldn't let my mom, he thought I was gay. He'd been against it since I started."

I gritted my teeth. What an asshole of a father.

"So what- he just stopped paying your tuition?"

"And for my lessons. I had been lying to him and saying I needed the money to apply for other colleges and internships and he was happy at first. Then he found out I was still dancing... I tried working a part time job on the weekends, but between rehearsals, practice, college, and lying I couldn't do it."

"I'm guessing he noticed your grades?"

Kiba nodded, "He started to ask my friends about what I was up to, and I don't speak about my family so they assumed it was okay... Then he found out." He winced a bit, "He disowned me."

Anger was seeping into my pores: his situation reminded me of Sasuke's. Having asshole parent's who think they can just come in and control your life and then drop out when they realize they can't.

"Tell you what," I growled loudly, "We're gonna get you back on your feet."

He scratched his freshly shaved chin, "I think I should just go back outside when the blizzard lets up."

"Kiba, no." I slammed my palms into the counter; "One of my best friends had this issue too, now he's on his way to being one if the most successful people his age."

"Yeah, but I really don't think I should just come in and impede on your lifestyle- I get that you're trying to help me, really I do." He put up his hand defensively, "I don't want you to think I'm being ungrateful, but I'll figure everything out myself."

My brow twitched.

"When?" I glared at him, "When your dead on the street and everyone who once knew you can't recognize your starved body on the cold pavement?"

He tensed, "I can do it myself."

"No you can't."

"Yes. I'm not a child."

"But you've been being treated like once, just let me help you until you can prove your shitty father wrong."

I'd been punching him in the face mentally for about ten seconds when he finally gave in with an exasperated breath.

"Okay. But I'm pretty sure you'll be tired of this in a few days."

"You don't know me, Kiba."

"The feeling is mutual, Sakura."

We both smirked.

I turned around to base the chicken, squinting when the heat washed over my face,

"I feel like I'm learning what warmth is again." Kiba said,

"I don't want to send you out in the cold again," I cooed, "that's my basis for not sending you out."

"Am I a puppy?"

"Might as well be. I'm pretty sur-?"

To my left there was a loud bang, Kiba had jumped off the barstool so quickly that it slid across the hardwood floor; I flinched and dropped the spoon I was using on the chicken.

"Sakura! Sakura!"

Oh! Oh, that was Ino.

"What the fuck? Why did you just fly in here?!" I shouted back at her, leaving the kitchen to meet her halfway through the hallway,

"Why don't you lock your doors?!"

"She does," Ino sneered at Kiba, she looked extremely upset, "I just have a spare key."

Kiba had been bristling before, but he calmed himself down- only to have Ino throw a heavy backpack at him,

"_Stop that_!" He barked, his thin body reeled backwards,

"Shut up!" She cried, "Sit down on the couch, right now!"

"What are you doing?" I asked her while we watched Kiba slink towards the living room,

"Checking him for illnesses."

Seemed legit.

Ino was a pre-med student after all, and she'd started school early. She was staying in New York over the winter to work under a highly renowned surgeon who specialized in tumor removal and transplants- however- Ino was also an expert in inspection of anatomy and diagnostics. I watched with a smile as she retrieved the discarded backpack, from which she pulled a pair of blue latex gloves and proceeded to card through Kiba's hair.

"No fleas." She muttered.

She grabbed his chin in her hands and rotated his head slowly, she gestured for him to remove his shirt. The snow was melting off her clothes. She seemed appalled at the state of his skin at first, but slowly finished her inspection.

"Okay."

She removed her gloves.

"Here." Taking five containers from her bag, she handed them one at a time to Kiba, "This is for your hair; as in crotch, armpit and head. This is for your mouth, it doubles as mouthwash and toothpaste. You have frostbite, but thankfully its only serious here on your wrist, so use this on any area where you see that purple-ish, blue coloring on your skin. This is for your ears," she let her head fall to her right shoulder, "lean your head over like this and slowly pour this into your ear by squeezing the bottle, let it sit for about two minutes and turn your head to the other side so it can drain and you can do the other one."

Kiba nodded after every order.

"This last one is a special lotion. It's kind of like a moisturizing cream combined with Neosporin, make sure you use it in the morning and at night, and shower in the morning and at night."

She threw her index finger at me, "Sakura he seems to be maybe fifty pounds underweight, it's not super-serious, but it can still be life threatening. He needs to eat four meals a day; I'll help you keep the fridge stocked." She turned her attention to Kiba, "Carbs and protein are your best friends, but start small, if you eat large portions right off the back your stomach may collapse."

"Damn, Ino." I punched her softly, "I don't even have to pay for this?"

"Normally you take strays to the vet," she winked at me, "but luckily for you, I'm pretty much your sister."

"I'm gonna put this upstairs..." Kiba said,

"Wait!" Ino whipped around, "Take this," there was a Nike Duffle bag inside the backpack, she handed it to him,

"What... Is this?"

"A Playstation 3 and a toothbrush, and some socks and underwear. I'm not sure if they'll fit you but you have some now."

Ino was a genius. Someone needed to be here to kiss her feet.

Kiba headed upstairs and Ino took a seat at the counter, she rolled her ponytail into a bun, "I can't believe you Sakura."

"Why not?"

"You're dad would skin you alive."

"I know," I laughed while I opened the oven again to base the chicken, "he'd try to move in with me."

"So what's his deal? How old is he?"

"I'm pretty sure he's our age... His dad disowned him for doing dance and ballet outside of school. He dropped out cause he couldn't afford the tuition and the performance pressure was killing him."

"Sounds like Sasuke."

"Oh I know."

I closed the oven and say down next to her, hooking my feet around the long legs of the stool, "I think he's a good guy."

"Well, he doesn't seem like the secret killer type."

We laughed.

"You need to get him some clothes."

I considered the suggestion, "I'm going to wait for him to put the weight back on and then take him. I don't think it makes sense to buy him clothes that won't fit later."

She sighed, "What's he gonna wear now?"

"Uncle Toru left his sweat bag here, it's full of stuff. That's what he's wearing now; and they're already too big on him so I think it'll work out until he starts filling."

"Make sure he stays hydrated and sleeps a lot, okay?"

"Yes mom."

"Shut up," Ino giggled, "It should take about two months for him to put the weight back on, if you let him work out he should fill in as he goes. I wouldn't suggest letting him go outside either. Inside is the best place to heal."

"Alright. I'll call you tomorrow."

She hugged me and held my hand as we walked to the front door, "Bye!"

I waved, closing the door as she pulled her hood over and began walking into the white oblivion outside.

"She's crazy." I jumped a bit a Kiba's voice behind me,

"I know," I smiled at him, he looked shaken up again, but he was also looking healthier already.

"She's a medical student?" He asked,

"Yup, come eat."

I used a cloth to pull the heated tray of chicken out of the oven, while it cooled off I put a place mat, fork and knife out in front of Kiba. I took the salad out the fridge and put a generous heap on his plate, and then I placed a chicken breast on top,

"Welcome home." I told him, after he smiled and shoved a fork full of chicken into his mouth.

"Thanks for letting me stay."

Smiling, and noticing the blizzard calm down outside, I make my plate and take a seat in the barstool next to him.

I noticed that it feels nice to have someone to talk to after school and work.

•••

It's raining outside and Drake's album got leaked. Looks like I'm going to be writing all day.


	2. Settling Down

"_**You don't have to prove shit to no one except yourself."**_

* * *

In just two months we'd created our own tradition; every Sunday we'd sit in the living room, and discuss what our day would consist of (if it was in the morning), and at night, a summative assessment of the day's activities.

Today would be the first day that Kiba left the house in these two months.

For the most part, he (we) obeyed the 'no outside' rule, since Kiba only left the house to get the mail. He didn't seem to like outside very much until he started putting the weight back on, and that took a month and a half in itself.

He'd gone from 125 to 163 in _one and one half months._

Kiba was actually a pretty smart guy; he was only three years younger than myself, but he was very innovative and proactive. The day after I'd allowed him to reside in the townhouse he asked if he could use my Mac to look up some health facts and when I returned home from dinner with Ino he had a list of supplements and vitamins for me to buy the next day. This in the least was one of the very many things that I happened to like about him; if Kiba needed something, once he got comfortable, he didn't hesitate to ask. He drank a whey protein shake everyday, in the morning and at night, and exercised most of the time while I was away working and in school. He had signed up for a month long cram course that kept him occupied and quiet even when I was home, today he was working on letters to send to his professors about his previous situations,

"I have a 3.0 now," he mused, "I had a 3.6 GPA for the longest… But now…"

I watched as he became engorged in his typing again, flipping a page of my textbook I looked at the fluffy tufts of his dark hair, "We're gonna leave in like ten minutes,"

He stood up and lingered towards the kitchen, playing with his crotch on the way- what a _dude. _He seemed like he wanted to say something, but he turned his back to me when I got up and headed towards the staircase.

Upstairs I threw on some leggings and a long T-shirt. It seemed appropriate to make a small cat-eye with some liquid eyeliner after I put on lotion; I put on my snowcap and headed back downstairs,

"I like your style."

It wasn't something he hadn't said to me before, but I said thanks, "What kind of stuff do you like to wear anyways?"

"Nice sneakers… jeans. I like collared shirts and fancy, graphic tees."

I weighed the description, "I'm kind of excited to see the stuff you're going to pick out."

"I'm not too interesting," he laughed.

I gave him a sideways stare.

Kiba stood about three foot, six inches; he had a medium build and was on his way to being a bulky hunk of lean muscle. His hair was somewhat long, and the word to describe his brown strands would be _fun. _He cut his hair himself with some kitchen scissors after staying with me for the first few days, it had been an amateur job and it looked endlessly sloppy. I made fun of him for it, but as the hair grew back it looked natural and suited him hardly fit my uncle's sweat clothes anymore; the pant legs rode up above his ankles a few inches whenever he was standing, and his physique was coming correct so the armpits of my uncle's shirts bunched and pulled against his biceps. His eyes were sharp and critical, and his jaw was narrow and strong, his feet were huge and his hands seemed just as big. When he smiled his eyes pulled back a bit and when he laughed his ears turned red, he liked to lay about on the floor and his stomach grumbled loudly even when he wasn't hungry. I usually found him in the extra room of the townhouse stretching against the walls, or floor, sometimes he would be doing back flips, crunches, lifting the baby weights that I had or even some complicated type of yoga, whenever I came home from work. He followed me around, and liked to run his hands through my hair.

It only took him a week to get completely comfortable in the house.

I decided that Kiba could easily be compared to a dog.

"No… I think you're pretty interesting."

He gave me a toothy grin.

**[Stray]**

"I love your car."

"It was my mom's but she passed away."

There was an awkward silence.

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine." I told him, laughing.

Kiba ran his hands along the top of the car, the silver paint reflected the suns rays onto his face in white shades, I unlocked the doors and he climbed in after adjusting the seat,

"I think you're going to be way too big for the car soon." I hooted,

"You might be right," He grunted as he ducked into the passengers seat. I wanted to apologize to him for making him leave the house like some kind of rejected three-year-old (what with the too small sweatpants and the heavy snow boots that were the only pair of shoes that he could wear) but I could only manage a ridiculous giggle.

"Stop Sakura," he whined, "I'm trying not to think about how fucking stupid I look right now- you aren't helping."

"Oh my gosh," I gripped my stomach, "I just want to make you stand in Times Square like that."

"You're evil."

Sniggering darkly I started the car and pulled out the garage. It took us about fifteen minutes to reach the mall on the west side of town, Kiba was becoming restless in his seat,

"I love this mall," he claimed, "they used to let me pick out clothes from here to wear."

"Who are 'they'?"

"The modeling agency."

_What?_

"What modeling agency?" I was flabbergasted; he _was_ becoming more and more eye-catching everyday, but I had no idea he was once _that _attractive.

"Young and Reckless." He alleged, pointing to my cap, "They said I looked naturally defiant."

"You kind of do, now that you mention it." I switched gears, "But wait- how long have you been modeling?"

"Before I ran out of money? Maybe a year?" He bit the adjoining flesh between his thumb and index finger, "Its how I got all of my clothes."

"Damn, Kiba." I would never guessed if he hadn't said anything.

Inside the mall it was crowded, Kiba stuck close to me, afraid of being seen by the masses. He immediately turned inside of Vans the second he spotted one.

"So what can I buy?" He questioned,

"For now, whatever you want, as long as you don't spend more then four hundred dollars."

"I don't want to spend that much of your money." He refused,

"You can spend more if you _want_."

He gave me a disgusted and confused look, "Are you rich?"

"No, my uncle is." Since my mother passed away, her youngest brother made sure that I was well off, and since her death and his incessant bank deposits into my account, I had more than enough money to blow.

He seemed satisfied with the answer, "Is he okay with you spending it on me?"

"He knows, Kiba, he's not insanely overprotective like my father."

That's all the reassuring it took- before now it would've taken days.

We left Vans with three pairs of shoes and six shirts.

Just outside of Vans was a Lucky Brand Jeans, where he bought ten clearance sale jeans and two jackets. Pac Sun was across the mall near the food court and we left with several Young and Reckless t-shirts, four snap backs, three belts, and two more shoes. I told him that there was Nike store near a Top Shop and we headed there, we met outside the side-by-side stores, him with two more shoes and three bags stuffed full of athletic apparel. The next stop was J-Crew, he bought four shorts and six, long-sleeved, collared shirts and another belt.

We ended just outside of where we began, stopping quickly at a Ralph Lauren store because Kiba was beginning to complain about all of the bags, I told him that I'd meet him at the car and he returned in a pair of khaki pants and a black, V-neck Polo, a white cloth belt hung from around the pant waist.

_Well_.

He was definitely hot- even if he was still a few pounds underweight.

"Thanks, again."

"Don't want to hear it." I told him while I backed out of the parking lot.

Back in the town house the sun provided all the light we needed to see. Kiba was strewn across the living room floor, he yawned, and glanced at me in the couch opposite of him,

"I'm starting school in a few weeks," he stated,

"Okay."

"What should I do?"

I looked over at him, noting the lengthy shadow his eyelashes created across his cheeks in the sunlight, "What do you mean?"

"I have to move out, right?"

I thought about his inquiry, "No. Not unless you want to," and then, after fidgeting, I added, "I like having you here."

Kiba flushed, "I like being here. I like it a lot."

"Okay then!" I rolled over on the couch, smashing my face into the white leather, "What school are you going to?"

"F.I.T."

I turned my head to face him, "You don't even have to take a taxi to get there."

"I know, it's great," He began doing push-ups, "I'll probably go for my masters somewhere outside of New York though."

"Me too."

He stared at me a bit longer before sighing, "I don't have the mon-."

"Wait," I shot up from the couch, "Wait I have something for you,"

He sat on his butt and crossed his legs with raised brows as I ran to my room; I'd completely forgotten that I had asked my uncle to send Kiba some basic technological necessities.

"Here."

He looked up, his eyes glazing over, "Your uncle again?"

"Yup."

"A MacBook. And a 5s?" He wiped underneath his nose with his thumb,

"Kiba this is the Haruno way. We watch, we help, and we learn." I gave him a confident smile, patting him on the head as I bent down to sit next to him on the shag rug.

"Thanks. I can't think of anything else to say, really."

We were silent as he opened the boxes, his phone first, and then the computer. The 5s was sleek in his hand, he took his time learning the software with me glancing over his shoulder, and eventually he shoved the MacBook towards me and asked me to set it up while he finished with the phone.

He cried as silently as he could when I turned my back to lean on his, and two hundred and fifteen selfies of us later, he cleared his throat:

"One day, I'll pay you back in a way that will leave you stuck with me for the rest of your life."

"I'm looking forward to it." I said, smiling.

It was four o'clock when I ordered _Shun Lee,_a Chinese restaurant that was a local favorite. Kiba ate both appetizers, half of my share and his own. We turned on the TV after cleaning up, and as I lay out on my couch with the day's homework organized around me on the couch Kiba cracked his neck and took the remote. He settled on MTV, bobbing his head to several songs and switching the channel at others.

"I should probably go by the studio tomorrow; you don't have classes Mondays right?"

"Yup," I chewed on my pen, "but I have to be at work at eight, there's a big dinner party that my boss is supposed to go to and I need to be there in case his secretary doesn't show."

"Sounds like a shitty secretary." Kiba mumbled, "Why doesn't he just fire them?"

"I'm not really sure, actually." Kakashi was a strange man- I wouldn't be surprised if he hired me during my internship either.

"The guys are really nice, you'll like them." He gave me a warm smile from the floor, "There's a girl named Temari who tried to help me, she's great, like a super-mom."

I smiled back at him; tomorrow was going to be _very _interesting.

**[Stray]**

It was nine o'clock in the morning when Kiba and I sat down at the kitchen island; he looked at me with glowing chocolate-colored eyes and grinned,

"Hello," he said, with a whistle.

"Mornin'." I yawned at him, chuckling at his freshly tousled head.

It was nine-thirty when Kiba's body dropped to the floor.

He shook about with a spasm so fierce that I had to hold my breath to keep myself from screaming. There was nothing that I could do, however, to fight might tears from rolling down my face.

"_Kiba!" _his name left my lips in a sort of shriek, his eyes struggled to focus on me, and after seconds passed they finally began to roll back- it wasn't until a small stream of blood left his mouth that I was able to pry myself from my position by the barstool,

_I don't know what's happening; I don't know what's happening._

He was sputtering now, choking every other jerk and clenching his fists so tightly that the whites of his knuckles stretched against his skin. I tried my best to hold his body down; I straddled his waist and held his head in place with my nervous hands as best I could- I glanced at the clock on the microwave; nine-thirty three. The sound of a cry leaving Kiba's throat brought my eyes back to him, he was drooling everywhere, and kicking his legs, his body settled on a quick vibration, the seizure was beginning to calm.

At nine-thirty five his left hand shot up and he grabbed my wrist, his body came to a stop and he licked his lips. For five minutes we stayed in that position,

"Are you okay?" I asked him finally, my voice shaking as bad as his body.

He grunted, and gripped my wrist tighter.

"You have blood all over your face." I told him as I lifted my face to observe him.

He licked his lips again and pulled himself upwards, burying his face into my shoulder,

"'_M sorry."_ He managed, breathing in quick pants,

"Don't be. Are you okay? Please say you're okay." My voice cracked, and I intertwined my hands into his dampened hair,

"Mm hmm."

"Can you stand? Do you think you can make it upstairs?"

He nodded into my collarbone, "Should I call the hospital?"

"No…" He leaned back and began standing up, forcing me to move out of his lap,

"Are you going upstairs? I'll come with you."

I held his hand as he limped away, we made our way to my room where Kiba collapsed onto the bed, and he groaned and shivered. I wet my bath rag and used it to wipe off his face, neck and some of his hair, then helped him into the bed properly. Once he was settled I climbed in after him, planting my face into his chest and listening to his lungs and heart.

"Epilepsy." He said gravely.

I whispered anything reassuring to him, he dozed off after a while, and while I watched his pained face I somehow managed to as well.

We spent the day in bed, talking softly to each other while the world moved on around us.

•••

_This is sort of a filler chapter? I figured we should get to know Kiba a bit better... plot movement coming next week. Review please, I love reading them, really, I do._


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